


mortal perfection

by notanannoyingfangirl



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, I don't know what this is TBH, It's just 12k of fluff and random pilates knowledge, M/M, Pilates Instructor!Phil, Pilates au, and smoothies, they drink a lot of smoothies, youtuber!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanannoyingfangirl/pseuds/notanannoyingfangirl
Summary: “Louise,” Dan hissed, “have you taken me to a medieval torture chamber?!”There was nothing fake about it.Because the room was, indeed, filled with a dozen or so devices that definitely looked like they could have belonged in Henry VIII’s creepy basement.Louise burst into laughter. “Oh, Dan,” she cooed, “you should see your face.”Dan scowled at her. “I’m serious, Lou, what the hell is this?” He asked, gesturing to the machinery.“It’s called a reformer,” a voice that Dan didn’t recognize said.// Dan isn’t sure what to expect what Louise drags him to a Pilates exercise class. It isn’t Phil Lester.





	mortal perfection

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Title taken the introduction from Return to Life through Contrology by Joseph Pilates which was written by Frederick Rand Rogers. In this book, Pilates describes a physical fitness system he developed called “contrology”. It is now widely practiced under the name “Pilates,” named for Joseph Pilates. Pilates is the art of controlled movements, which should look and feel like a workout. If practiced regularly, Pilates improves flexibility, builds strength and develops control and endurance in the entire body. It puts emphasis on alignment, breathing, developing a strong core, and improving coordination and balance. 
> 
> I'm not entirely sure what this fic ended up being, it certainly was never my intention for it to end up being 12k long! But I recently started taking Pilates classes and this just kind of... happened! So I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> As always, I'm not claiming any of this is real, these are fictional events inspired by real people. 
> 
> \- notanannoyingfangirl

“Louise,” Dan groaned, pinching his iPhone between his ear and his shoulder as he focused on mixing the stir fry that he was attempting to cook. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Come on, Dan,” Louise pleaded, “my doctor told me that it would be really good for my back, but I don’t want to go alone. What if it’s terrible? I need someone to laugh with when the instructor inevitably asks us to do a pose that neither of us can do.”

Dan let out a long suffering sigh, knowing that there probably wasn’t a way for him to get out of this one. The truth was, it had been a while since he had gotten to see Louise and he knew that his friend missed him.

But exercise? _Really_?

“I will agree to come on one condition,” Dan said, reaching forward to turn off the stove. “You have to buy me dinner afterwards. Or drinks. Depending on how terrible it is.”

“Deal!” Louise said, and Dan could practically _hear_ her grin. “It’s been ages since we’ve gotten to see each other. I know I’ve been busy with the baby, so I think this could be a good excuse to get out of the house for once!”

Dan chuckled to himself as he focused on not dropping his phone while he slid his stir fry off of the pan he had been using to cook it and onto a clean plate. “And the first thing you want to do to get out of the house is drag me to an exercise class?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking, it’s not, like, intense cardio or anything. I think it’s supposed to be like yoga,” Louise said.

“Oh great, that makes me feel so much better about it,” Dan said dryly. “I just can’t get enough of yoga.”

“If it’s that bad then we never have to go back,” Louise promised. “But if it’s fun, maybe we could make it into, like, a weekly thing. It will actually give us a reason to see each other besides just filming collabs.”

“Be honest though,” Dan said, reaching up and slipping his phone free from his shoulder so he could switch it to the other side. “You’re totally going to be vlogging about it.”

“Well of course! I have to let my viewers know whether or not I think it’s worth paying the ridiculous fee that the company insists on charging for their monthly membership,” Louise said.

“Oh god, how much is this costing me?” Dan asked, slipping the pan into the sink and padding out in the direction of his living room. It was just him, living in the tiny London apartment, so there wasn’t any sense for him to make a big deal out of eating at a dining table when he had a perfectly good sofa and television.

“Nothing,” Louise promised. “Your first class is free, apparently. It’s called an Intro Class, I think it’s shorter than a regular class, too. It’s only a half an hour long.”

Dan let out a breath of relief. He could survive a half an hour of exercise. “So Friday?” Dan asked, double checking the date that Louise had mentioned at the start of the phone call.

“Yep!” Louise said, “I’ll swing by your place and pick you up, then we’ll head down to the studio.”

“You just want to make sure that I’m actually going to show up, don’t you?” Dan asked, dropping down onto the couch and kicking up his feet onto the coffee table in front of him so that he could balance his plate on his lap.

“Exactly,” Louise agreed. “So I’ll see you Friday, I have to get going - I have to finish editing this video so I can get it up before tonight!”

“Give Darcy and Pearl my love,” Dan said.

“I will,” Louise promised, “bye, Dan!”

“Bye,” Dan said, reaching up and grabbing his phone, ending the call. He tossed his phone onto the couch next to him, reaching for the remote instead. Some anime was sounding good, maybe a sports one to get him hyped up for this exercise class that Louise was dragging him to.

Yeah, that sounded good.

< < < > > >

“Are you ready?” Louise asked Dan excitedly when he answered the door on Friday. Her vlogging camera was already up and open in her hands, meaning that Dan’s reaction was being recorded for Louise’s two and a half million subscribers.

“Definitely not,” Dan said, but he knew he was smiling anyways, as Louise wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a half-hug.

“You look good,” Louise said, panning the camera up and down Dan’s body.

Unsure what kind of exercise he was getting himself into, Dan had opted for a pair of loose-fitting grey joggers and a black and white stripped t-shirt. Louise, too, was already dressed in her exercise clothes - a pair of white yoga pants and a purple t-shirt, her blonde hair pulled back into a curly ponytail.

“I like your curly hair,” Dan told her, reaching over and grabbing his wallet from the table by the door so that they could get going.

“And I like yours,” Louise told him, “I’m glad you decided to stop straightening it.”

“You and everyone else on the internet,” Dan said. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Perfect,” Louise said. “The cab is waiting downstairs, since I figured we weren’t going to want to walk if we’re going to be doing exercise.”

“And we definitely aren’t going to want to walk home once you’ve gotten me drunk so that I can _forget_ the exercise that we just did,” Dan said.

Louise shook her head, “I’m sure you’re going to be fine, Dan. The doctor recommended it for me as a way to deal with my post-pregnancy stress. How hard can it be?”

< < < > > >

The answer to that was, apparently, fairly hard.

After a fifteen minute cab ride, Dan found himself following Louise out of the back seat and onto a sidewalk in front of a small building squished in between a smoothie shop and a Topman. It had a brick front, and the space seemed so small that Dan found himself wondering how on earth a fitness studio could be inside.

“This is the place?” Dan asked Louise, arching an eyebrow.

Louise nodded, “this is it.”

Two large windows were set into the building, blue curtains pulled across them so that it was impossible to see inside, a glass doorway set in the middle of them.

Hanging above the door were the words “Lester’s Studio Pilates” in white, block letters. One of which had become home to a bird, if the nest perched on the curl of the “S” was anything to go off of.

“Is it even open?” Dan whispered, as Louise led the way to the door.

She gave an experimental tug on the handle, and turned to grin at Dan when it opened easily. “Oh! I should blog our initial reactions!” She said, reaching in to her purse and pulling out her camera.

It only took her a few seconds to turn it on, and then she was pointing it at Dan.

“So what do you think, Dan, are you excited to try Pilates for the first time?” She asked.

“Isn’t Pilates supposed to be an exercise for, like, women? I feel like I’m going to be out of place,” Dan said, stepping through the door into the short hallway that ended abruptly at another glass door. He pulled the door open, holding it open for Louise, before following her into the studio.

“ _Oh_ , Dan,” Louise said, “it’s so pretty!”

Dan tore his gaze away from the pieces of paper taped to the door advertising future classes and the smoothie place next door and the different bios for the trainers to look at whatever Louise was staring at. The front of the studio was a storefront, thick blue curtains pulled closed, no doubt to give the class that was currently exercising some privacy. There was a receptionist's desk in front of the curtain, carved from a light wood with a Mac computer sitting on top of it. The walls of the storefront were pale blue, a soft lighting giving the place a warm glow. The walls were covered with t-shirts and hoodies that all said different ridiculous things like “I like Pilates and Maybe 3 People” or “Pilates. Coffee. Wine. Repeat” or “Ask Me About Pilates”, although a few of the shirts were just plain blue with the words “Lester’s Studio Pilates” across the chest. The wall next to the door was just a wall of cubbies, made from the same light wood as the receptionist’s desk, most of which were crowded with purses and tennis shoes.

A younger girl was standing behind the receptionist counter, tapping away at something on her phone, but she glanced up when she heard them come in and placed the phone down.

“Hi!” She said brightly, her American accent slightly jarring, her brown ponytail bouncing as she waved them over. “I’m Cat! And I don’t recognize you, are you two here for the free intro class?”

“We are,” Louise said, careful to keep the camera angled away from Cat as she stepped up to the front desk. “My name is Louise, and this is Dan, and we were wondering if we could film our experience with Pilates for my YouTube channel.”

“Oh! I’m sure that’s fine,” Cat said, “but you’ll have to ask Phil first. He’s the instructor who will be teaching the intro class. I’d get him for you now, but he’s _just_ wrapping up the five o’clock class. But we could get your paperwork started now, if you want, there’s just some forms you have to sign.”

Louise closed the camera, slipping it back into her purse. “What do you need us to sign?” She asked.

Cat waved for them to join her behind the desk, pulling up some online paperwork. “We just need your names and your personal information, and then your digital signature right… here,” she said, pointing towards the box at the bottom of the screen. “This just covers all the bases, you know, saying you’re doing all the exercises of your own will and that you won’t sue us if you get injured, stuff like that. Pilates is perfectly safe as long as you don’t misuse the machinery, but it’s just a part of the business, you know?” Cat said, stepping aside so that Louise could reach the keyboard and begin typing.

“So, Dan,” Cat said, while Louise filled out the paperwork, “what made you decide to try Pilates?”

“Oh,” Dan said, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, “I’m actually just here for moral support for Louise, she really wanted to try it, so she dragged me here with her.”

Cat laughed, “you would be surprised how often that happens! So do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“Nope,” Dan said, popping the ‘P’. “Just that it’s something like yoga.”

Cat burst into laughter. “Oh, oh, sweetie,” she reached over, patting Dan’s arm. “Pilates is _nothing_ like yoga.”

“Great,” Dan said, narrowing his eyes at Louise.

“Okay, done!” Louise said.

“Perfect!” Cat said, stepping up and grabbing the mouse. She clicked around on the computer for a few seconds, before gesturing for Dan to step up.

Dan skimmed over the words on the screen, typing in his personal information where it was needed. Cat was right, it was pretty basic stuff, the same kind of paperwork that Dan had signed when he got his gym membership a year ago that he had yet to use.

He used the mouse to (badly) write his name in the box before clicking submit, the screen returning to a schedule of upcoming classes.

“Alright! You guys are all set!” Cat said. “So, for Pilates, you both are going to need a pair of socks before you can head back into the studio.”

Dan glanced down at his feet, he had remembered to put socks on today, right?

Yep, he had.

“So Pilates socks,” Cat continued, “are different than regular socks. They come in a variety of styles, but the most important part is that they have little grippy stuff on the bottom so that you can grip the floor and the machinery.

Dan looked up, arching an eyebrow at Louise, who just shrugged.

“So there’s a rack with different socks over there,” Cat pointed to a small spinning rack that Dan hadn’t noticed earlier. “It’s based off of your shoe size, so just find a pair that you like and then I can ring them up for you.”

Dan rolled his eyes. So that’s what it was, a way for the studio to make more money.

“I’m going to vlog us trying to pick out our socks,” Louise declared, pulling out her camera and flipping it on.

“So we have just been told,” Louise narrated, as Dan led them over to the rack of socks, “that for Pilates we have to have special socks with little grips on the bottom. So Dan and I are going to try and find a pair of socks that we like.”

“Wow, hey, Cat, are you sure these are socks?” Dan asked, picking up one of the pairs of socks. They looked like a pair of fingerless gloves for his feet.

“Yep!” Cat said, nodding her head and making her ponytail bounce. “Some people like to have their toes out so they can grip the bar.”

“The bar?” Dan mouthed to Louise, who merely shrugged.

“Oh, Dan, these totally look like something you would wear,” Louise said, reaching over and pulling off a pair that were bright pink and covered in rhinestones.

“Oh definitely,” Dan agreed, chuckling to himself. He slipped the pair of socks he had been holding back onto the rack, choosing a black pair from the selection of men’s socks instead. They were toeless, like the first pair he had picked up, but they were black with straps that would stretch across the bridge of the foot like ballet slippers. “But I think I’ll stick with this pair,” he said, holding them out for Louise to look at.

“Oh those are nice,” Louise said. “But I think I’m going to opt for a pair that keeps my toes covered,” she told the camera, pulling off a plain beige pair of socks that were decorated with small silver rhinestones.

“Beige?” Dan asked, as they wandered back over towards the counter so Cat could ring them up. “That’s such a boring color, Lou.”

“But it matches anything, so it will always match my outfit!” Louise pointed out, as she handed Cat her credit card, slipping her vlogging camera back into her purse.

Dan leaned against the counter, waiting for Louise to finish paying so that he could buy his own pair of socks.

The curtain behind the receptionist’s desk pulled back slightly, opening wide enough for a group of people to begin to emerge. The group exiting the class consisted of about a dozen or so women and one sole man dressed in exercise clothes, the weird socks that Cat was peddling on their feet. Most of the people went right for the cubbies against the wall, stripping off their socks and beginning to put on their shoes and coats.

“Bye, Phil,” one woman called, waving over her shoulder, as she exited the back room.

Phil… that was the name of the instructor, right?

Louise stepped to the side, letting Dan hand his socks and credit card over to Cat. She made quick work of ringing him up, and then handed he and Louise each a pair of scissors so that they could open the package.

“Oh!” Said the only man in the group, “Are the two of you taking the intro class?”

Louise and Dan shared a quick glance, before turning their attention back to the man in front of them and nodding.

“Cool!” The guy said, “I’m Peej, and this is my girlfriend, Sophie.”

The girl who had waved goodbye to the instructor wandered over, flipping her short, curly dark hair over her shoulder. “Oh, hi!” She said, smiling brightly.

“We’ve been coming here since the studio opened,” PJ continued. “It’s great. You two are gonna love it.”

“We hope so,” Dan said nervously. “But neither of us are big fans of exercise.”

“Us either,” PJ admitted, “Phil practically had to force us to come, but that was almost two years ago, and we haven’t stopped yet, so it must not be _that_ terrible.”

“Phil? That’s the name of the instructor today, right?” Dan asked. “At least, I think that’s what Cat said.”

“Yeah,” PJ nodded. “Phil Lester, he’s the owner of the studio.”

Dan swallowed nervously. The owner of the studio was going to be teaching their Intro Class?

“Well, anyways,” PJ continued, “I hope you two enjoy the class! Sophie and I have to get going, but maybe we’ll see you around sometime.”

“Yeah,” Dan said weakly, waving slightly, “see you around.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Louise added. “Well they seemed nice,” she commented, once PJ and Sophie had left the studio.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “They did.”

The rest of the class had cleared out while Dan and Louise had been talking to PJ and Sophie, so Dan and Louise quickly stripped off their shoes and socks and stuffed them into the now-open cubbies.

Dan dropped down onto the bench in front of the cubbies, trying to pull his new socks onto his feet. But for some reason, his toes didn’t seem to get the memo that they were supposed to go in separate holes.

“You should have gotten the same kind that I did,” Louise joked, wiggling her toes.

“Shut up,” Dan said, pushing at her arm, before returning his attention to his socks, finally able to pull them onto his feet successfully. It felt weird to have his toes exposed while he was wearing socks, and the grips at the bottom kept him from sliding across the floor in the way Dan normally would have expected himself to, but they weren’t actually as annoying as Dan had been afraid that they would be.

“You two are the only ones signed up for the Intro Class today,” Cat said, smiling at them, “so you can head on back whenever you’re ready.”

Dan glanced at Louise out of the corner of his eye, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.

< < < > > >

“Okay,” Louise said, pulling her vlogging camera out of her purse, before slipping the purse back into the cubby hole. “I’m going to vlog our first reaction to the studio.”

“Okay,” Dan said nervously, stepping forward and pushing the curtain leading to the back of the studio to the side, making sure that it was wide enough for both he and Louise to fit through.

He could practically feel the weight of the camera lens on him, and he might have felt the need to have some fake, overdramatic response for the audience, but…

“ _Louise_ ,” Dan hissed, “have you taken me to a medieval torture chamber?!”

There was nothing fake about it.

Because the room was, indeed, filled with a dozen or so devices that definitely looked like they could have belonged in Henry VIII’s creepy basement.

Louise burst into laughter. “Oh, _Dan_ ,” she cooed, “you should see _your_ face.”

Dan scowled at her. “I’m serious, Lou, what the hell is this?” He asked, gesturing to the machinery.

“It’s called a reformer,” a voice that Dan didn’t recognize said.

Dan whipped his head away from the machinery to see who was talking to him, any future words dying in his throat as he caught sight of the man stepping out of the back office. His black hair was pushed away from his forehead in a quiff and a pair of black-framed glasses were resting on his nose. He was dressed casually, in a pair of comfortable grey joggers and a blue t-shirt, one of the ones that Dan recognized from the display up at the front of the store, the words “Lester’s Studio Pilates” written in a bold white font across his chest.

If Dan had to wager a guess, he was willing to put down money on the fact that this was the instructor.

A really, really, _really_ hot instructor.

“I’m Phil, um, Phil Lester. I own the studio,” the man said, stepping further into the room and offering out his hand.

Dan swallowed thickly, hovering behind Louise.

“I’m Louise,” she said, shaking the man’s hand. “And my shadow back there is Dan.”

“Hi,” Dan said awkwardly, giving the guy a half-hearted wave.

The man - Phil, Dan corrected himself silently - smiled, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in a way that made him seem infinitely dorkier and more adorable. And a little less intimidating. Dan felt himself relaxing.

“It’s great to meet you,” the man, no, Phil, said. “So the two of you are interested in taking Pilates classes?”

“We are,” Louise said. “Or, at least, I am. My doctor recommended it for me. I just dragged Dan along for moral support.”

“I’m not typically one for exercise,” Dan added. “I was bribed with the promise of drinks to forget whatever torture you inflict on us today.”

Phil laughed, his eyes flickering over to meet Dan’s. “Well that’s a very noble cause, but hopefully you won’t need to forget anything. Pilates is very different than other forms of exercise. And we’ll be starting off pretty basic, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Dan said, feeling the corners of his mouth twitching up into a small smile despite himself. Sure, maybe he didn’t like exercise all that much, but, if Dan was being honest with himself, Phil seemed nice.

“So, first things first,” Phil said, clapping his hands together. “I want to go over some basic safety with you two. The machines you see here are called Reformers. Most of the classes that I teach focus heavily on the use of the Reformer, so it’s important that you learn how to use them safely. So if the two of you wouldn’t mind having a seat… here,” Phil said, leading them over to two of the Reformers. “Just lay back so that you’re resting your head on the headrest, and then you can prop your feet up on this footbar here.”

Dan followed along with Phil’s instructions, dropping back down onto the machinery. For looking like a medieval torture device, the machine was padded and comfortable (if slightly too small for Dan’s 6’3” frame). He glanced over at Louise from the corner of his eyes, watching as she put her feet up on the bar at the end of the machine in the way that Phil had instructed.

Louise turned her head, catching Dan’s eyes. “I feel like I’m at the gynecologist,” she whispered.

Dan snorted. “TMI, Lou, I do _not_ need to hear about that.”

“So you said that your doctor recommended that you try Pilates,” Phil said seriously, but Dan thought he could hear muffled laughter in the man’s tone, “are there any injuries that I need to know about?”

“I just get a sore back,” Louise explained. “It’s nothing serious or chronic. Oh, and I had a baby a few months ago.”

Dan propped himself up on his elbows so that he could watch Phil, as their instructor paced over to the other side of the room and tapped on an iPhone that was plugged into some kind of stereo, low music beginning to filter through the studio.

Phil nodded. “Okay, we’ll make sure not to do anything that could be too intense for your back. Dan, anything I should know about?”

Dan shook his head, trying to ignore the twist he got in his gut at the sound of Phil’s northern accent rolling over his name. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Great! Let’s get started, then. To start, I just want you to get used to the movement of the Reformer, so I’m going to have you put your heels together in the center of the bar. And then, when you’re ready, just push out.”

Dan adjusted his feet on the bar, pushing out slowly. There wasn’t as much resistance as he had been expecting, the platform that he was resting on sliding back easily. Well, okay, that wasn’t terrible. Dan could handle this.

“Okay, and then bring the platform back in,” Phil instructed, his voice seeming much louder all of a sudden.

Dan blinked an eye open (when had they even fluttered shut?) and glanced over towards where Phil was standing in the center of the studio, his gaze flickering back and forth between Louise and Dan. He had a black wireless microphone headset on now, no doubt so that he didn’t have to completely ruin his voice while he was instructing his students, but since the class was literally only Dan and Louise, Dan wasn’t sure why he felt the need to use it. Maybe it was just, like, a comfort thing or something.

“Perfect,” Phil said. “So that’s one of the basic movements we use in Pilates. Now, I want you to do it again, but this time stay pushed out.”

Dan followed the instructions, pushing himself out once more.

“Now drop your heels under the bar,” Phil said.

Dan did as he was told, wincing slightly at the sudden burn in the back of his calves. That _hurt_.

“Now bend one of your knees, giving the nice leg another stretch. Yeah, just like that. And hold it for five, four, three, two, one. Great, switch legs and do the same on the other side. For five, four, three, two, one. And now bend your knees and bring the platform in.”

Phil continued to run them through a series of exercises involving pushing the Reformer out and in, although he had them change their foot positions on what was apparently called the “footbar” numerous times. Some of the stretches were painful, but for the most part, Dan had to admit that it actually felt pretty good.

“Okay, so that’s most of the basic footwork that you need to understand. Now, I’m going to walk you through a few other uses of the machinery, nothing too advanced, don’t worry, but things that you would need to know if you decide to take classes here,” Phil said. “I want you to reach up behind you, you should feel two straps hanging on pegs near your ears. I want you to grab them.”

Dan reached back, sure enough there were two pegs on either side of his headrest. There was some kind of loop of fabric wrapped around each peg, so Dan pulled them free. The loops turned out to actually be just that, loops of fabric attached to some kind of strap.

Dan turned, raising an eyebrow at Louise, who was staring right back at him with a similar expression of confusion.

“Okay, so now I want you to bring one of your knees into your chest and slip your foot into the strap. I know it feels weird, just bare with me,” Phil said, moving closer and slipping into the space between Louise and Dan’s Reformers. His back was to Dan as he helped Louise figure out the machinery, so Dan did his best to follow Phil’s instructions, bringing his knee to his chest so that he could slip his foot into the strap.

It felt… odd… to say the least.

“Okay, great, now you can do the other foot,” Phil said, and even though he was clearly still talking to Louise, Dan followed the advice as well.

“Once both your feet are in the straps, I want you to straighten your legs so your body is forming a ninety-degree angle,” Phil said, stepping away from Louise and turning to watch Dan fumble with the second strap.

“Here,” Phil said, stepping closer. “Let me get that for you.”

His fingers brushed over Dan’s ankle, as he slid the second strap into place, just the barest hint of warm beginning to make goosebumps rise on Dan’s legs.

He needed to chill out. Phil was just touching his _freaking_ ankle. He had just done the same thing for Louise.

Not to mention, Dan probably looked utterly ridiculous, laying on the reformer with his legs in the air.

“Alright, you’re all set,” Phil said, pulling backwards and disappearing from Dan’s line of sight.

Dan resisted the urge to sigh, as he stretched out his legs so that they were at a ninety-degree angle like Phil had instructed. God, he felt even _more_ ridiculous now.

The Reformer platform shifted underneath him, moving as he moved his legs, but even with the addition of the straps, the movement wasn’t as difficult as Dan expected it to be.

Sure, it felt odd, and probably looked kind of funny, but it definitely wasn’t as hard as other kinds of exercise that Dan had tried.

“Now,” Phil instructed, “we’re just going to do some basic leg movements. The first one is called leg circles, so it’s just like it sounds. You’re going to drop your legs down slowly, and then once your legs are parallel with the rest of your body, separate your legs and arch them wide, bringing them back together at the ninety-degree starting point. It should feel like a nice stretch, just be careful not to over flex yourself, okay?”

Dan nodded, which was pointless, because Phil probably couldn’t even _see_ him, but then he began to try and follow Phil’s instructions.

The Reformer platform pulled out and in with the leg movements, and Dan could feel muscles that he didn’t even know he _had_ groaning in protest at some of the movements, but for the most part, Dan found that he actually kind of _liked_ it. The stretching felt great after a week of doing nothing but sitting on his couch with his laptop in his lap, and the weird strappy things made Dan feel infinitely more flexible than he actually was.

Phil led them through a series of movements with ridiculous names like “frog” and “astronaut” before finally declaring that the allotted time slot for their Intro Class had expired, and that they could carefully remove the straps and return them to the pegs before standing.

Dan slipped the straps back to the pegs behind his head, before he pushed himself up from the Reformer, swinging his legs over the side, his weirdly-sticky socks sticking to the hard food floor as he stood.

However, he regretted the spread of the movement almost immediately, as he felt his vision blur slightly and his knees began to wobble. It felt as though all the blood in his body had drained too quickly, leaving him feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

Suddenly there was a pair of strong, warm hands on his shoulders, pushing Dan back down so that he was sitting on the Reformer.

“Woah, hey, Dan,” Phil was saying, as he crouched in front of Dan, his blue eyes wide and concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Dan said, swallowing. “Sorry. I stood up too fast and got a little lightheaded.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Phil asked, turning his head to the side, almost as if he were addressing Louise.

Dan answered him anyway. “It’s, um, I have Orthostatic Hypotension, it happens a lot.”

Phil turned his attention back to Dan, nodding. “Okay, do you want something to eat or drink? Get your blood sugar back up?”

Dan shook his head, “No, no, I’m okay, really. I just need to be more careful about how quickly I stand.”

“Okay,” Phil said, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I’m fine,” Dan insisted. “It’s just cause I’m so tall.”

Phil grinned slightly at that, but the concern still lingered in his blue, _blue_ eyes. “You know, Dan, when I asked if there was anything I should know about, this _might’ve_ been something worth mentioning, that way I can monitor you more carefully.”

“Sorry,” Dan said, “I’m still kinda new to this whole exercise thing. I didn’t think it would be relevant.”

“Well, I know now,” Phil said, “and I’ll remember it for next time.”

Dan arched a brow at him. “How are you so sure there’s going to be a next time? Lou and I just came for the free Intro Class.”

“Isn’t there?” Phil asked, his grin widening so that his tongue poked out between his teeth. And was it just Dan’s imagination or had his voice dropped to a slightly lower octave?

Dan glanced up at Louise, who was hovering behind Phil’s shoulder, looking every bit like a concerned mother hen, but she relaxed slightly when Dan met her gaze, shrugging in response to the question that he was trying to silently ask her.

Were they coming back for another class?

“Um,” Dan wavered. “Um, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great!” Phil enthused, squeezing Dan’s shoulders. “I’ll let you talk to Cat, up front, about membership plans, I have to get ready for my next class, but it was really great to meet both of you.” Despite apparently talking to both of them, Dan couldn’t help but notice that Phil’s eyes never left his.

Phil released his grip on Dan’s shoulders, standing to his full height. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon!” Phil called, giving them a wave before he headed off in the direction of the office that he had emerged from in the first place.

Only once the door had clicked shut behind him did Dan let out a puff of air that he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

“Oh, you have it _bad_ ,” Louise said, grinning wickedly.

“Shut up,” Dan grumbled, finally feeling well enough to stand.

Louise just laughed, shaking her head. “Dan, you just _willingly_ agreed to buy a membership to a workout studio. And it wasn’t because you liked the exercise.”

“How do you know?” Dan muttered. “Maybe I really like Pilates.”

“Or maybe you really like Mr Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” Louise said, shaking her head. “Dan, you can’t lie to me.”

Dan crossed his arms across his chest defensively. “Whatever, let’s just go see how much this is costing us.”

< < < > > >

Dan stared down at the open app on his phone. Once he and Louise had finished purchasing their membership plans from Cat (twice a week for Louise, and unlimited for Dan because he was _weak_ ), she had them install an app on their phone that they could use to sign up for sessions ahead of time and reserve their slots.

And, as an added bonus, it turns out that the app told you who the instructor would be for each class.

Which was convenient, because apparently Phil didn’t teach every class himself.

And there was no way that Dan was inflicting unnecessary torture on himself if Phil wasn’t going to be there.

Because, while he would never admit it to Louise, Phil Lester was _definitely_ the reason that Dan had payed for a membership in the first place.

“Okay,” Louise said, reaching over and snatching Dan’s phone away from his hand, “that’s enough staring at the class schedule. Here, the drink that I owe you. Although, personally, I think you enjoyed that class too much for me to actually owe you anything.”

“Shut up,” Dan grumbled, not even bothering to try and snatch his phone back. Louise was scarily good at keeping things out of reach, even given her significantly shorter frame. It came from being a mom, Dan thought. Instead, he just wrapped his fingers around the glass of red wine that Louise handed to him.

Louise just cackled at whatever she saw on his face, her red wine splashing dangerously close to the edge of her glass. “ _Dan_ ,” she said, leaning in and resting a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “How long have we known each other?”

Dan narrowed his eyes, “Almost two years. Why?”

“Because, Dan Howell,” Louise said, “in all that time, I have never seen you act like this. About _anybody_.”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say, hun,” Louise said, squeezing his shoulder, before raising her glass to her lips, but Dan could see that she was far from convinced.

< < < > > >

Despite telling himself that he would wait until Louise was able to go to Pilates again with him, Dan broke down after just two days and scheduled a class for Monday. In his defense, he had had a fairly uneventful weekend of loitering around his apartment, scrolling Tumblr on his laptop, and filming and uploading a new video (the next Internet Support Group, since his viewers always seemed to like them, and it gave Dan an excuse to day-drink and try to forget blue eyes and the warm pressure of hands on his shoulders).

The vlog of he and Louise going to the Pilates studio for the first time went up as well, and Dan rewatched it about six times despite Phil not even being _in_ the video. They had given their complete review of the class in the backseat of their Uber on the way to get drinks, and Dan couldn't help but think about how happy he looks in the video, and if it weren’t for the grainy quality of the video, he might almost suspect that you could see how he was blushing.

Louise had texted earlier in the morning, saying that she was up for going to another class on the next Friday if Dan was interested, although she thought they should pick a later time slot so it wasn’t another Intro Class. Dan had replied that he was good with the plan, and had promptly scheduled the class immediately from his phone. But the many, _many_ days between now and Friday had taunted him, with their partially-filled classes and the list of instructors’ names.

But Dan didn’t care about who the other instructors were.

The only classes that he really cared about were the ones being taught by Instructor Philip Michael Lester.

There was still an open class on Monday at two in the afternoon, and Dan had no self control, so he had clicked the button to sign himself up for the class.

Stupid.

Now he actually had to show up for an exercise class by himself.

< < < > > >

Despite his usual habit of running at least fifteen minutes late for everything, Dan finds himself outside of the Pilates studio almost half an hour early.

God, how eager was he?

He couldn’t stroll in for a class that wouldn’t even start for half an hour. How ridiculously lame would that make him look?

Dan snorted at himself, tugging at the skin-tight black jacket that he had thrown on over his grey t-shirt since it matched his black joggers and made him look a little like a Pokémon trainer.

Because lurking outside of the studio’s front door made him look _less_ creepy and embarrassing.

Dan flickered his gaze around the shops nearby, wondering if there was a Starbucks where he could go to hang out for a bit. There was the Topman that he had seen with Louise, as well as that smoothie shop.

And, well, it wasn’t a Starbucks, but a smoothie might not be a bad way to kill fifteen minutes, Dan reasoned, as he pushed open the door to “Frankie’s Fresh Fruit Smoothies”. The inside of the shop was a burst of color, the walls painted an offensive orange that was so bright it actually _hurt_ Dan’s eyes. The front of the small shop was cluttered with tall tables and multi-colored stools, the far side of the shop occupied by a bar where customers could order and then sit and wait for their drinks.

It was crowded in the store, but Dan barely glanced at the people in line ahead of him, taking full advantage of his height and simply gazing over their heads to study the menu in front of him. There were an overwhelming amount of choices for a simple smoothie shop. Everything from shots of something called wheatgrass to sandwiches and wraps to at least two dozen different flavors of smoothies.

Maybe he should have tried a little harder to find a Starbucks.

At least Dan knew what he liked to order there.

_Strawberry Extreme_. _Tropical Blast_. _Protein Packer_. _Matcha Match_.

Dan didn’t even know what was in half of the smoothies.

Oh well, if he didn’t like something, then he could just throw it away.

Despite the people in front of him, the line moved quickly (though the crowd gathered at the end of the counter just seemed to grow bigger, apparently making smoothies was time consuming. Well, that was what Dan had wanted, wasn’t it?), and all too soon, Dan found himself standing awkwardly in front of the perky girl working the register.

“Hi,” she said brightly, adjusting her visor, “welcome to Frankie’s! What can I get for you?”

Dan let his eyes flash up to the menu one last time. “Um, I’ll take a medium Black as Night smoothie, please,” he said, his eyes latching onto the first name that seemed like something he would _remotely_ be interested in drinking.

“Sure thing, that will be four pounds,” the girl said, grinning at him.

Dan dug the money out of his wallet, handing it over to her and accepting his change, before following the lead of those who had ordered before him. He leaned up against the wall, content to just watch the workers adding ingredients to blenders until his drink was ready.

Well, at least he wouldn’t be early for class now.

One of the workers slid two smoothies across the counter, which were picked up by a man in a suit and a girl holding a cellphone to her ear who was talking loudly, but it cleared up a space to sit, so Dan slid up to the spot behind the counter, freezing when he noticed the person who had been sitting at the other seat, obscured from view by the suit-wearing-man.

Unfortunately for Dan, the universe hated him, and the figure looked up at the sound of the metal stool scraping against the ground.

Phil smiled widely, obviously recognizing him. “Dan!” He said, “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

And, okay, Dan’s a little impressed that Phil remembered his name, because as the owner of an exercise studio, Phil probably sees loads of people every day and there’s no way that he can remember each and every one of their names, but the pleasure of being recognized is fleeting in face of Dan’s embarrassment at being called out for coming to another class so soon.

“Oh, yeah,” Dan laughed nervously, hovering slightly between sitting down on the stool and remaining standing. “Um, Louise couldn’t come, but I figured I should get the most out of my membership, right?”

Phil laughed, his tongue doing that adorable thing. “Well that’s nice to hear,” he allowed, “come on, sit down, I was just waiting for my lunch. You’re a bit early, aren’t you? You’re scheduled for the two o’clock class, aren’t you?”

Dan nodded, finally giving in and dropping onto the stool beside Phil. They’re close enough that Dan’s knee brushes against Phil’s under the table, close enough that he can tell himself that it was an accident. “Um, yeah, how’d you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Phil said. “But actually, the instructors receive a class list that updates as people join. That way, if we know who’s coming ahead of time, we can tailor our workouts accordingly.”

“Oh,” Dan said. “Yeah, that… that makes sense.”

“So how did your friend, Louise, right? How did Louise’s video turn out? Cat said that she asked if she could film in the studio,” Phil asked, taking a sip of a drink that Dan hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding.

_Way to pay attention to the details_ , _Howell_ , he scolded himself.

But, in his defense, Phil looked amazing in a pair of blue workout pants that left practically nothing to the imagination and a matching black workout jacket with blue trim along the neck and arms. The blue and black outfit was complemented by his eyes and thick, black rimmed glasses.

Dan tore his gaze away from where they were traveling slowly down the lean lines of Phil’s body, forcing himself to meet the man’s gaze, instead. “Um, yeah, it turned out great. We, um, made sure not to get the name of your studio in the video, figured you wouldn’t want hoards of teenage girls showing up outside of your door. Sorry, should we have asked before we uploaded it? Cat said she thought it would be fine…”

Phil reached over, cutting off Dan’s nervous rambling by resting a hand on Dan’s forearm. “Relax, Dan, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Although, now that you mention the hoards of teenage girls, I am grateful the two of you decided to keep my name private. I’m not sure how much my regulars would appreciate having to fight their way through a crowd to make it to class,” Phil said, his eyes twinkling. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you and Louise do exactly that would result in hoards of teenagers showing up on my doorstep?”

Dan felt his face flush, as it always did when someone asked what he did for a living, and he wasn’t sure how to say ‘I make videos for the internet in my bedroom’ without looking like a complete idiot. “Um, we actually both make YouTube videos. Not, like, together or anything. But we both have our own channels,” Dan said, tapping his fingers against the bar.

Phil smiled slightly at him, “So you two are vloggers, then? That’s kind of what I guessed once Cat told me that you two had filmed in the lobby.”

Dan felt himself relax slightly. “Most people have no idea what I’m talking about when I try to explain what I do,” he admitted.

Phil laughed, the sound seeming to startle him. “I’ll bet,” he allowed. “I actually used to dabble in making YouTube videos, myself, back when I was a teenager.”

Dan leaned in closer, unable to help his curiosity. “Did you really?”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded, “I thought they were pretty good at the time, but I’m sure that now I would just cringe.”

“That’s exactly how I feel about my older videos,” Dan said with a chuckle, “but I leave them up on the internet anyways because I’m a masochist.”

“Medium Black as Night smoothie,” one of the workers called, sliding a Styrofoam cup and a straw across the bar.

Jumping slightly at the name of his order, Dan picked up the cup and straw, gazing through the clear lid at the drink inside. True to its name, the drink was _literally_ black. It looked like someone had scooped up Dan’s soul and turned it into a liquid.

He quickly unwrapped the straw and shoved it into the drink, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. He wasn’t sure what flavor he had been expecting, but the sharp taste of cherry across his tongue was a nice surprise.

“So why did you stop?” Dan asked, once he pulled the straw away from his lips.

“Huh?” Phil blinked at him.

“Making videos, why did you stop?” Dan asked.

“Oh, right,” Phil said, shaking his head slightly. “I just got busy finishing my degree, and I was doing a lot of video editing for that, so I didn’t really want to do it in my free time.”

“You were doing video editing for your degree?” Dan questioned, unable to stop himself. “Not something… fitness-y?”

“No, Pilates started as a hobby, actually!” Phil said, taking a sip of his own smoothie. Dan couldn’t help wondering what flavor Phil had gotten. “My degree is actually in Video Post-Production. Which I still do a bit of, but not as much now, since I opened my studio.”

“Wow,” Dan said. “That’s… really impressive, Phil.”

Phil blushed, taking another sip of his drink.

“Nutella Crepe,” a worker called, sliding a black plastic takeaway container across the bar.

“That’s me,” Phil said, grabbing the container.

“A Nutella Crepe? Phil, that doesn’t sound very healthy,” Dan teased, as he stood and pushed himself away from the bar.

He had infringed on Phil’s company long enough, he wasn’t about to impose himself on Phil for the other man’s whole lunch break. Maybe he could go kill some more time in Topman or something.

“It’s definitely not,” Phil agreed, reaching over and grabbing something from behind the counter.

Phil stood, gesturing towards somewhere over his shoulder. “Want to go sit down, I think there’s an empty table over there.”

“Oh, I don’t want to, um,” Dan stammered. “I didn’t get anything to eat. I don’t want to, like, impose.”

“You’re fine,” Phil said, waving him over towards the table, tipping his smoothie precariously as he glanced at some kind of athletic wristwatch. “We still have… twenty minutes before class starts, come on, you can share with me. There’s no way that even I would be able to finish a whole crepe by myself and still have time to get to class.”

“Are you sure?” Dan hesitated, watching as Phil dropped down into a white armchair, setting his drink, food container, and two sets of plastic cutlery on the small table beside it. Another armchair was on the opposite side of the tiny table, and Dan hovered near it, still not totally convinced.

“Dan, sit down,” Phil instructed, popping open the lid open. “I mean, you do _like_ Nutella, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan gave in, dropping down into the armchair. It was stiffer than he expected, a little uncomfortable, and he understood why these seats had been left open.

“Perfect,” Phil said, handing one of the fork and knife sets to Dan.

Dan had to admit, the crepes (because there was definitely more than one crammed into the tiny container) looked _amazing_. They were loaded with Nutella and strawberries, topped with some kind of chocolate sauce and powdered sugar. They looked more like some kind of desert than a lunch.

“Is this just a way to trick me into eating fruit?” Dan asked, watching as Phil began to cut away at the crepe.

“I think the chocolate sauce efficiently negates any potential health benefits,” Phil pointed out, his fork waving through the air as he spoke.

Dan chuckled, but followed Phil’s lead and began to cut away at the crepe, bringing a small piece up to his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Dan practically moaned around a mouthful of Nutella. “This is, _literally_ , the best crepe I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Thus the reason I have no self control when it comes to ordering lunch,” Phil agreed, sipping at his smoothie. He looked a little pink, but it was probably just the glow from the obnoxiously bright orange walls reflecting off his pale skin.

“Now I’m always going to show up early for class,” Dan agreed. “You’ve created a monster.”

Phil grinned, taking another bite of crepe. “Are you excited for your first actual class?” He asked.

“Um, yeah,” Dan said, running a hand through his curls. “I’m a little nervous though. Is that stupid?”

“No, I get it,” Phil said. “Trying new things is always scary, and the Intro Classes are designed to ease you in, so a full class is a little bit more intense.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Dan deadpanned.

“Sorry,” Phil laughed. “It won’t be that bad, really.”

Dan rolled his eyes, “I don’t believe you.”

“If you completely hated it, you wouldn’t have come back,” Phil pointed out, his hand slowing in its near-constant movements so that his fork was level with Dan’s chest.

Which… wasn’t strictly true.

Dan was pretty sure that even if he had found the exercise to be literal torture, he still would have come back for another class if it meant he had another opportunity to see Phil Lester.

But, well, he wasn’t about to tell Phil that.

“I guess it wasn’t all bad,” Dan allowed. And if his eyes lingered a little on Phil, well, who could blame him?

To distract himself from the blinding sight that was Phil Lester, Dan forced himself to eat another bite of the crepe, the creamy taste of Nutella blending perfectly with the sweet tang of the strawberries.

Phil smirked, almost as if he knew exactly what Dan was thinking, but that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“You have something,” Phil said, gesturing to his own lips.

Oh, suddenly Phil’s smirk made more sense.

Dan brought up a hand, wiping at his mouth, frowning when it came away clean.

“Here,” Phil said, leaning forward, “let me.”

Dan felt his entire body freeze in place as Phil leaned into his space, close enough that he could smell the sugar on Phil’s breath.

Phil dragged his thumb across Dan’s lower lip slowly, achingly, teasingly slowly, before he leaned back in his seat.

“Did you get it?” Dan asked, his breath a whisper, his voice coming out lower than he intended it to.

“Yep,” Phil replied with an easy grin, popping the ‘P’. “Chocolate. Somehow it manages to get everywhere,” he said, sticking his thumb into his mouth and sucking the chocolate off of it.

Dan was pretty sure he was _actually_ about to spontaneously combust. And it would all be Phil’s fault.

Phil pulled his finger from his mouth, the movement causing his wristwatch to glow. “Oh!” Phil exclaimed, jumping up from his seat, “we’d better get next door, otherwise you’ll be late for your first class!”

“I’m pretty sure the class can’t start without you, Phil,” Dan called, but he pushed himself up from his seat somewhat reluctantly.

Phil scooped the crepe container up, “Well, let’s not test that theory,” he said.

< < < > > >

It turned out that Dan was right to be nervous about his first ‘real’ Pilates class, as it was _significantly_ harder than the Intro Class had been.

Sure, they had done a lot of the same moves using the Reformer, but Phil had also had the class using the straps with their arms while they held their legs in the air, which made it simultaneously an ab workout and an arm workout. And then he had them get off the machine and do some mat exercises including planking and _push-ups_! Dan couldn’t even remember the last time he had had to do a push-up. While the Intro Class had been nice and relaxing, this class left Dan completely and utterly exhausted.

By the time that Phil finally declared that the class was over, Dan just dropped down onto the squishy foam mat, panting for breath.

He could hear the other members of the class packing up their stuff and saying goodbye to Phil, but Dan decided that he was never leaving from this spot on the floor. It was comfortable. And moving meant standing, which Dan wasn’t entirely sure was an option for him right now.

He heard the sound of footsteps padding towards him, and Dan blinked one eye open just in time to see Phil standing near the edge of Dan’s mat, close enough that Dan could reach out with his foot and tap him if he wanted to.

“Did you survive?” Phil asked.

Dan just groaned in response.

“Oh come on,” Phil said, tapping at Dan’s leg with his toe. “It wasn’t that bad. That was a beginner’s class.”

Dan whimpered. “You said it wouldn’t be that bad. If that was a beginner's class, I don’t think I’d survive any of the advanced classes.”

“You’d be fine,” Phil insisted.

“I’m _literally_ dying right now,” Dan insisted, pushing himself up into a sitting position despite how his abs ached in protest.

He had used muscles he didn’t even know that he _had_.

“You’re not dying,” Phil said, laughter ringing in his voice, but he reached down and offered Dan a hand, hauling Dan up to his feet.

“Thanks,” Dan said, trying not to focus on how Phil’s fingers were lingering on his own. “At least I didn’t almost pass out this time,” Dan pointed out.

“That’s an improvement,” Phil said dryly. “So have I scared you off, or are you still going to come back?”

The question sounded like it’s supposed to be casual, but there’s a little too much of… _something_ behind it.

Dan pretended not to notice. Kind of.

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to scare anyone, Phil,” he said, which wasn’t an answer, except it kind of was.

< < < > > >

He and Louise go back for their class on Friday. Dan manages to resist the temptation to return sooner, but only barely. And only because his abs are so sore he can hardly walk for the two days following his first real Pilates class.

But for some reason, the instructor on Friday isn’t Phil. Some kind of last minute switch.

So really, the whole outing was for nothing.

< < < > > >

To make up for the lack of Phil on Friday, Dan scheduled a class for early Monday morning, since apparently Phil wasn’t working over the weekend, despite the fact that the studio was open.

Dan justified it to himself since he had an unlimited membership, but really, he’s just impatient. And it’s stupid to think that he misses someone he hardly knows, has really only spoken to twice, but he doesn’t know how else to describe it.

“You’re going back?” Louise asked in disbelief.

“I know, I’m shocked too,” Dan said, pinching his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he attempted to pull his shoe onto his foot without undoing the laces, hopping slightly.

“You must _really_ like this guy,” Louise said, never one for beating around the bush.

Dan froze. “Lou, I really, _really_ do.”

“Well, I think he likes you, too,” Louise said, “if that helps any. He never spends as much time ‘correcting my form’ as he does yours.” Dan could hear the air-quotes even without seeing her.

“Maybe your form is perfect already, Louise,” Dan told her, but he could feel a warm blush spreading across his face.

It was true, Phil had spent more time beside Dan’s Reformer than anyone else’s, his hands warm as he positioned Dan’s legs into the proper form.

Louise snorted. “ _Please_ , I’m terrible. I spend the whole time laying there just thinking about how all the moves seem like sex positions.”

If it was possible, Dan’s flush deepened. “They really do, don’t they?”

“It’s the most erotic something can get without being considered porn,” Louise said seriously.

“Thanks, Lou, that makes me feel so much better about my class this morning,” Dan said, finally succeeding in getting his shoe on his foot and starting on the other. “I already had to be up ridiculously early this morning.”

“You didn’t _have_ to be,” Louise pointed out, “you could have picked a later class. And nine in the morning is not ‘ridiciously early,’ Dan. You’re just nocturnal.”

“That’s true,” Dan agreed. “Okay, I have to get going, Lou, I need coffee if I’m going to stop myself from falling asleep on the Reformer.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for you,” Louise teased.

“ _Lou_ ,” Dan groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“Oh, hun,” Louise said softly, “I’m always on your side.”

“I know you are,” Dan allowed. “Okay, I’m going to see if I can find a Starbucks near the studio. I’ll call you later and tell you how class went.”

“Gossip about Phil, you mean,” Louise interpreted, “I’ll talk to you later, Dan.”

“Bye, Lou,” Dan said, reaching up and pulling his phone free from his shoulder, ending the call.

< < < > > >

In a twisted design of fate, there isn’t a Starbucks near the Studio, which Dan doesn’t think to look up until his Uber dropped him off. And seriously, what street in London doesn’t have a Starbucks on it? But the closest one is blocks away, and Dan couldn’t be bothered to have to walk for coffee.

He leaned against the brick wall, scowling at his phone. Maybe there was, like, an indie coffee shop or something that was closer…

“Oh!” Someone said, sounding startled, and then “Dan?”

Dan tore his attention away from Google maps, unable to stop himself from blushing when he noticed that Phil had just emerged from the Pilates studio.

“Hi,” Dan said, giving an awkward two-fingered wave, cursing his past self for not looking up local Starbucks shops. Now he looked like he was over-eager for class to start. Again.

“Bit eager, aren’t we?” Phil asked, like he had just heard Dan’s thoughts, but he was grinning as he said it, his tongue doing that thing it does when he’s smiling so hard it’s almost laughter.

Dan held up his phone, “I thought there would be a Starbucks. I was wrong.”

“We’re, like, the only street in London without one,” Phil said, as if Dan hadn’t already learned that. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, we have something even better.”

Dan felt his eyes widen so much that it was almost comical, “Please tell me there’s a coffee shop hiding somewhere around here, I _need_ caffeine to function in the morning.”

“Not an early riser?” Phil asked, gesturing for Dan to follow him down the sidewalk, which he does. Because of course he does. He would probably follow Phil anywhere if he asked.

“Not if I can help it,” Dan said, shrugging.

Phil gave him a look that seems to ask ‘then-why-are-you-here-at-ten-in-the-morning?’ but he didn’t vocalize the question aloud. Which was good, because Dan wasn’t sure how he would have answered it.

“We’re here,” Phil declared, stopping after approximately two steps.

Dan followed his gaze into the building in front of them. A building with obnoxiously bright orange walls that Dan would have known anywhere.

“Um, Phil,” he said, “why are we at Frankie’s? Like, the crepe was _amazing_ , but not exactly what I’m looking for right now.”

“Just trust me,” Phil replied.

_I do_ , Dan thought but didn’t say. _I’d trust you with anything_. “Okay,” Dan said instead, following Phil into the building.

“Hi, Phil,” the girl behind the counter said as they entered. “Oh, and you brought a friend!”

“Hey, Rosanna,” Phil replied with a cheerful wave.

Dan tried to ignore the stab of jealousy that ran through him at the easy way they seemed to greet each other with. Phil worked next door, it made sense that he was familiar with the workers at Frankie’s.

“Can we get two Wake Me Ups?” Phil asked, “I need to enlighten Dan. Seriously,” he said, turning to face Dan. “You’ll never be able to settle for Starbucks again.”

“Sure thing,” the female employee, Rosanna, apparently, said with a chuckle.

“Phil, what the hell did you just order?” Dan questioned, as he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“You’ll see,” Phil said, reaching out and placing a hand on Dan’s forearm. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“Phil, I can-” Dan started to protest, but Phil ignored him, handing a credit card over to Rosanna.

“Seriously, it’s on me. That way if you totally hate it, you didn’t waste any money,” Phil said practically.

“Those will be right up,” Rosanna said, retreating to the back of the shop to do… something.

“Come on,” Phil said, waving Dan over to the end of the bar where they had bumped into each other the last time Dan had been in the smoothie shop.

Dan followed him, leaning against the bar rather than sitting down. Phil, on the other hand, sat on the stool closest to him, spinning slightly, like he was a child.

It was achingly adorable.

“Tell me about yourself,” Phil said suddenly, like he had been wanting to ask for awhile.

Dan laughed. “What do you want to know? There’s not much to tell.”

“I doubt that,” Phil said, his voice serious. “I doubt that very much.”

Dan flushed under the sudden intensity of Phil’s gaze. “What do you want to know?” He asked again, with less laughter.

“Everything,” Phil said, leaning in slightly, and suddenly Dan feels ridiculously tall standing above Phil like this. “You are something of an enigma, Dan Howell.”

Dan’s never told him his last name, which means Phil knows it from his file at the studio.

The sound of it, Phil’s accent rolling over the syllables, sends a shiver through Dan. “Not really,” Dan shrugged. “Grew up in Wokingham, went to Uni in Manchester. For law. I dropped out. I make YouTube videos. There’s not much else to tell, really.”

“Why did you decide to take Pilates?” Phil asked, which wasn’t exactly the question Dan had been expecting.

“Louise told you, the first time we met, her doctor recommended it to her, so she dragged me along for moral support,” Dan answered.

“And yet you keep coming without her,” Phil said. It wasn’t quite a question.

“That’s true,” Dan said, his voice sounding small, even to his own ears.

“Interesting,” Phil said, his eyes twinkling like he maybe already knew the answer to a question he hadn’t asked.

“Two Wake Me Ups,” Rosanna called, sliding their drinks and two straws across the bar to them.

Dan picked up his Styrofoam cup, eyeing the mysterious, thick liquid that was inside the cup. It looked disgusting, frankly, a sort of beige-y brown color.

Phil seemed utterly undisturbed by the gross color of the drink, as he had already shoved his straw into the drink and was sipping at it.

Utterly unsure of what he was about to be drinking, Dan unwrapped his straw and pushed it into the drink, taking a hesitant sip.

It was… actually pretty good. It tasted a little like a frappuccino that someone had let partially melt. It was a little chunky, like someone had blended coffee beans right into the drink, making it strongly taste of coffee, but, well, it was caffeine.

“That is… not as bad as I expected,” Dan admitted. 

“I told you,” Phil said. “Just as good as Starbucks.”

“Almost,” Dan said, but he followed Phil out of the smoothie shop and over to the Pilates studio just the same.

< < < > > >

It was sort of an accidental thing.

On Wednesday, Dan had been scrolling Facebook, liking his mom’s most recent photo of their family dog, when he gets a notification for a “page he may be interested in liking”.

Dan clicked over onto to the notification tab, because nothing annoyed him like that little red number one, and almost jumped out of his skin when the link says “Lester’s Pilates Studio”.

And, stupidly, the first thing he thought was that Siri was definitely spying on him. Which, he knew that anyways, but this pretty much confirmed it.

He had clicked the like button anyways, even turning on notifications for when they posted.

And because he couldn’t help himself, he flicked through the photo album.

Despite being the owner, Phil wasn’t in very many of the photos. Most of them were groups of members sporting the t-shirts with Phil’s last name on them. A few photos were just of the machinery. Some of some girl that Dan didn’t recognize doing poses. And there, one of Phil standing in front of the building, beaming. The day he had opened.

Dan’s cursor hovered over the photo, where Phil’s name was tagged. Like he couldn’t decide whether or not he was going to click on Phil’s name and get taken to Phil’s profile.

In the end, the choice got made for him.

A new friend request popped up, which was odd, because Dan’s account was under a fake name (Daniel James, original, he knew) so that the crazy fangirls from Youtube wouldn’t find his personal account.

**Philip Lester**

_No mutual friends_

Phil must actually run his own Facebook page for the studio, that was the only way that he could have known what name to look Dan up under.

Dan clicked _confirm_ before he could talk himself out of it.

< < < > > >

**Philip Lester**

_Pilates Instructor at_ **Lester’s Studio Pilates**

_Video Editor for_ **Element Pilates Corporation**

_Studied Video Postproduction with Visual Effects at_ **University of York**

_Studied English Language and Linguistics at_ **University of York**

_Went to_ **Bacup and Rawtenstall Grammar School**

_Lives in_ **London, England**

_From_ **Rawtenstall, England**

_Single_

< < < > > >

Louise ended up not being able to make it to their Friday class because Darcy had come down with some viral infection.

“Is she okay?” Dan had asked, once again pinching his phone between his shoulder and his ear so that he could finish locking his front door.

“She has a slight fever,” Louise answered, sounding worried. “I’m sure she’s fine… but I want to stay home with her tonight.”

“Of course,” Dan nodded. “Tell Darcy I hope she feels better.”

“I will,” Louise said, sounding relieved. “Have a nice time at class tonight, tell Phil I’m sorry, and I can pay the cancelation fee next week.”

“‘Course I will,” Dan promised, just as his phone beeped with an incoming notification. “Okay, I have to go. My ride's here.”

“Call me tomorrow and fill me in on what I missed,” Louise instructed.

“Bye, Lou,” Dan said, laughing as he hung up.

< < < > > >

Class is, as Dan had expected it to be, utterly impossible. Phil had them trying to do some kind of move that involved balancing a box and the Reformer and using it to do planks. Honestly, it was a miracle that Dan hadn’t managed to land on his face.

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” Dan said, helping Phil move the boxes back to their usual storage, since they were big and awkward to carry, and most of the class had just left them sitting atop their Reformers.

“Why would I do that? You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” Phil said, a little _too_ honestly.

Dan froze, half-way through returning one of the boxes to the stack in the corner of the room.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you that, for awhile,” Phil continued, like this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” Dan echoed faintly.

“Right now,” Phil corrected. “That was my last class.”

He said it like that explained everything.

Which, maybe it did.

“Oh,” Dan said, unable to do anything besides stare at Phil. Then, after Phil had started to fight nervously, he realized he should probably _say_ something. “Nothing.”

Which… how pathetic was it that Dan had nothing scheduled for a Friday night except a Pilates class that he didn’t even _actually_ like.

“Nothing?” Phil asked, his expression brightening.

“Nothing,” Dan reiterated.

Phil grinned at him, “Perfect. Come with me.”

Dan followed Phil warily as Phil led him back towards the offices at the back of the studio, pausing beside a door that Dan had always assumed led to some kind of storage cupboard.

“Um, Phil,” Dan said. “Where are we…”

Phil didn’t answer, didn’t even stop to answer, really, just pulled the door open to reveal a flight of stairs. “Come on, we can’t go out wearing these,” he said, gesturing to his own outfit, and then Dan’s.

“We’re going out?” Dan asked, following Phil as he led him up the stairs to a white wooden door. Maybe Phil had some kind of office above the studio where he kept changes of clothes? Dan wouldn’t put it past him.

“I mean,” Phil hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “If you want to.”

Dan nodded so quickly he thought he was going to give himself whiplash. “I want to.”

“Okay, then… um, come in, I guess,” Phil said, sweeping the door open and standing to the slight slightly so that Dan could enter the room first.

“Um, Phil,” Dan said, hovering awkwardly in the doorway, “is this your apartment?”

“Yep,” Phil said.

Which made sense. It looked _exactly_ like what Dan would have pictured Phil living in. Not that he spent much time thinking about it, but…

There were houseplants cluttering the small entry space, and Dan found his feet instinctively leading him deeper into the apartment, to an open lounge. There was a grey sofa pressed against one wall, decorative blue and green throw pillows tossed on it, a knit blanket hanging over the back. There was a bookcase, too, cluttered with what looked like anime DVDs and plush toys, which hadn’t been what Dan pictured Phil having on his bookcase, but it made sense.

“I like your apartment, it looks like you,” Dan said absentmindedly, stepping closer to the bookshelf and picking up a framed photograph. It was Phil, a man Dan recognised from some late night Facebook stalking as Phil’s brother, and their parents. There was a birthday cake on the table in front of them, and Phil was in the middle of blowing out the candles.

He glanced back, just in time to see Phil’s gaze sweep across the room like he was seeing it through new eyes.

“Thank you, I think,” Phil replied, laughing slightly.

“That was a compliment,” Dan added, in case that wasn’t clear. Something else caught his attention on the shelf. “You have the box set of Buffy,” Dan noted. “I didn’t peg you as a nerd, Phil.”

“It’s signed,” Phil said proudly, which did nothing to disprove Dan’s nerd comment. “Have you seen it?”

Dan scoffed. “Of course, only about half a dozen times.”

“You’re perfect,” Phil said, and then blinked, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Dan set the photograph back down carefully on the shelf. “I’m not perfect,” he warned.

Phil looked torn, like there was something sitting on the tip of his tongue and he wasn’t quite sure whether he should say it out loud or not. “I meant for me,” he finally said. “You seem perfect for me.”

Dan bit his lip, glanced around the apartment again.

“You seem pretty perfect for me too,” he said.

< < < > > >

They don’t go out. Phil bribes Dan with the promise of a Buffy marathon and pizza takeaway, and Dan can’t say no to either of those things, and he doesn’t really feel like sharing Phil with a crowd, anyways.

So they end up pressed together on Phil’s couch, even though there’s plenty of space and there really isn’t any excuse for them to be pressed up right against each other. But Phil pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and stretched it across their laps, and Dan had pressed his freezing toes to Phil’s leg.

And it felt right.

< < < > > >

“I should probably get going,” Dan said, lingering in Phil’s open doorway.

“Right, yeah, it’s getting late,” Phil agreed. Phil’s hand hovered awkwardly on the door near Dan’s head, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to shut it.

“We should do this again sometime. Soon,” Dan said, because now that he knew what it was like to sit on a couch and eat pizza with Phil while watching one of his old favorite shows, Dan wasn’t sure that he could bare to go back to his empty apartment.

“How soon?” Phil asked, leaning forward slightly, close enough that Dan could smell the body wash he must use.

“Whenever you want,” Dan replied. “Tomorrow. I don’t care.”

“How about right now?” Phil asked, his gaze flickering down to Dan’s lips.

“Right now works,” Dan said quietly.

Phil’s hand finally seemed to decide on what to do, swinging the door closed, effectively trapping Dan inside. His other hand reached up, settling on Dan’s hips, his fingers a warm presence through the thin cloth of Dan’s t-shirt.

“Dan,” Phil said, his breath ghosting across Dan’s lips.

Dan didn’t give him time to say anything else, reaching up to grab the front of Phil’s shirt, using it as leverage to pull Phil closer.

Their lips slid together softly. And Dan thought that he could do this forever.

Kissing Phil felt like breathing. It felt natural. Like he had been doing it for days, weeks, years.

Like he could do it forever.

“Stay until tomorrow?” Phil mumbled against his lips, pulling Dan further into the apartment. “We can get breakfast at Frankie’s.”

“Sure,” Dan agreed, pulling away just far enough to allow Phil access to his neck. “Crepes sound perfect.”

He felt Phil’s lips curl into a smile against his skin.

< < < > > >

“I was supposed to tell you,” Dan said later, running his hand across Phil’s chest. Just because he could. “Louise said to tell you sorry that she couldn’t come to class. Darcy, her daughter, was sick. She said she’d pay the cancellation fee next week.”

Phil waved one hand through the air lazily. “Tell her not to worry about it. I think it worked out pretty well that she couldn’t come to class tonight, don’t you?”

Dan reached over, grabbing Phil’s hand and bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Phil’s palm. “Yeah,” he said softly. “When you put it like that…”

Phil tipped his head down, brushing the softest kiss to Dan’s mouth, and Dan could feel Phil’s answering smile against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Like Dan and Phil? Come hang out with me on twitter @constowellation
> 
> And if you enjoyed the fic, feel free to leave a comment or kudos as they always make my day <3


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